


The Price

by lumenbriide



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Brother Feels, Drama, Family Drama, Gen, Neverland (Once Upon a Time), Peter Pan is Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold's Brother, Peter Pan is not Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold's Father
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 09:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10694283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumenbriide/pseuds/lumenbriide
Summary: “I sold my own brother to a monster so that I could escape a war.”“And I have never forgiven you for that.”The Echo Caves of Neverland reveal Rumple’s darkest secret and the reason Peter Pan chose to be a ‘bloody demon’ rather than the boy he’s eternally destined to be. “Because it’s easier to be cold stone, feeling nothing at all, than to remember what you did to me.”





	The Price

He should’ve known that finding the boy wouldn’t be as easy as getting in, getting out. Should’ve known that there was absolutely _no_ way to find Henry and get him to safety without alerting Peter Pan that he was in Neverland. He had been kidding himself the entire time during the journey, and now that he was here, he was being forced to accept reality at the worst possible time. His son, whom he’d thought long gone, was alive; however, to get to him, he’d have to walk right into what was no doubt one of Pan’s snares. He’d have to face him, and possibly kill him. No… he’d _have_ to kill him. Pan had sworn to that the last time they’d seen each other.

_“The next time we meet, Dark One, be prepared to end me; because if you don’t, it won’t be my blood spilling across the ground, but yours.”_

A fight to the death, Pan had called their ‘game’. And the next time they saw each other would be the final round. _“I may not be the best behaved boy on the island, but I always keep my promises,”_ had been another one of the immortal teen’s favorite quotes; and Peter had _sworn_ that death would be the judge of their fateful, personal war. The Dark One versus Peter Pan, ruler of the Lost Boys of Neverland. Rumpelstiltskin, or _Gold_ as he was slowly beginning to prefer, felt his gut churn at the thought, but quickly pushed the sensation aside. He was brought completely out of his thoughts when he felt Regina’s dark, steady gaze scorching the back of his skull. He turned, irate, to find the woman studying him with an unreadable regard. “Everything alright?” she inquired, satin voice carrying hungry curiosity and a bit of bewilderment. Of course. She was a magic user. She could sense his _dread_.

And that aggravated him to no end. “Just fine, dearie,” he said quickly, turning back around to hide how his fingers anxiously weaved together and apart over and over and over again.

The frustrating queen couldn’t leave it at just that. “What’s wrong? You think this is another one of Pan’s traps?”

Unbelievable. “Of _course_ it’s one of his traps,” he scoffed, lips twitching. “Which is entirely why I’m trying to devise a plan to keep us all _alive_ ; that is, if you can keep your worries to yourself and let me concentrate.”

Regina huffed, ego wounded, and that was that with her pestering.

He couldn’t say that the minor distraction was unwelcome, however. Especially now that the small Storybrooke group stopped suddenly before a gaping tunnel in a large cliff face. The entry point into the Echo Caves. 

 _“In order to get through safely, each of us must reveal our darkest secrets. One that you would never tell anyone under any other circumstance,”_ Hook had told them, and that rock was back in his gut, torturing him with alarm and a nearly undefeatable urge to just run. Run back into the woods like the coward he was and leave Henry and Neil and everyone else behind. The temptation made him sick, disgusted with himself, not for the first time. _You’d make that same mistake again?_ his mind sneered. Abandon _them?_

Emma Swan’s voice broke his train of appalled thoughts. “So… everyone ready?” Her voice was tight, almost as nervous as his own was. Well, of course. Her boyfriend was supposedly back from the dead; and even a blind man could tell that there was something between the blonde Savior and that pirate Hook. If this weren’t his own son they were speaking of, and, of course, other complications, he would be amused.

The more he dwelled on what the Caves would force him to do, the more the temptation to run grew. So, before he could have the chance to do so, he shoved his way past the others and stood by Swan, steeling himself, saturating himself in magic to ward off the doubts and fears and crippling little whispers that haunted his mind. “I doubt we could be any more ready than now, dearie,” he said, managing to keep his voice collected, smooth like the silk lies he was so used to crafting. He swept him arms before him. “Shall we? Ladies first.”

She rolled his eyes at his gesture but went ahead all the same. And, head buzzing, he followed with the others.

As soon as he saw the large stone platform in the middle of the Caves’ endless abyss, holding the cage containing his son, his heart stopped. It sped up once more when Neil, Baelfire as he’d known him, looked up, and met his gaze briefly.

His son was alive.

He heard Swan gasp beside him, but didn’t pay much attention. Because that was definitely Baelfire, which meant there was a definite reason now for him to give into Pan’s game and confess his secrets. _The_ secret.

The secret he was sure Pan wanted to hear the most. Possibly even the reason he had kidnapped Henry in the first place. To get to _him_.

“It’s really him,” Emma breathed, eyes widening. “He’s really alive.”

“Then we have to get to him before Pan, his shadow, or the Lost Boys show up,” Hook stated firmly, clearing his throat. He eyed each one of them closely. “You know what needs to be done. Who wants to go first?”

“Wait.” He couldn’t help stalling, just a little bit longer. “How do we know this secrets thing will even work? We’ll have put our hearts on our sleeves for nothing if Pan is lying.”

Hook cocked an eyebrow, staring intensely at him. “I’ve lost men here, mate, and those that survived can _guaruntee_ that this is what has to happen. ‘Sides, you know Pan just as well as I do, it seems. You know these Caves are the real deal.”

Yes, he did, and he grudgingly shut up and stepped back, pursing his lips as Hook then cleared his throat once more. “There’s only one way to be truly sure, though, I suppose.” A pause, a deep breath, and then the dark haired man raised his head up high. “I kissed Emma.”

He rolled his eyes, couldn’t help it. There was no way that _that_ was Kilian Jones’, Captain _Hook_ ’s, darkest secret. And he was proved right when Emma pointed out that the kiss were not a secret – though Charming looked quite surprised and, to borrow the modern term, pissed – and then Hook spilled his guts over his lost love and his self-doubts and wounded heart. He wasn’t sure how that was a dark secret, until the pirate added, “Aand that love was… _his_ …” He pointed to Gold reluctantly. “…wife.”

Milah. That explained much. The secret was less about broken romance and more about how he’d dared to steal another’s wife. The Dark One’s wife. Bastard.

A stone bridge began to build itself, ejecting from the stone platform and creeping closer to the edge of the main caverns. So the Caves really did feed upon secrets. Wonderful.

Charming stepped up next, visibly avoiding his wife’s gaze, and the words that came afterwards shocked even Rumpelstiltskin. “When I first married Snow, and we took her on our honeymoon, she wanted to take the time to plot against Regina. I told her not to, told her that they were just threats…” A pause, in which Regina scowled and Mary Margaret tensed. “…but that was a lie. The night before we left for the Summer Castle, I tried to sneak into the queen’s castle. I… I tried to _kill_ Regina so that she would leave us alone. Leave Snow alone. And so that the burden of killing her would not be on my wife. But I never got past the guards. I failed, and I pretended it never happened. I pretended that I hadn’t tried to sneak into the queen’s home and kill her in her sleep.”

Silence filled the atmosphere for a while, Regina glaring holes into the ground as the stone bridge grew larger and Snow White moved closer to her husband.

“I didn’t want you to look at me with… disdain,” the Charming David whispered, while his wife placed her hands on his arms.

“If you are to be looked upon with disgust because of _that_ ,” she said quietly. “Than… than so am I.”

That regained everyone’s attention.

“When we all regained our memories,” she added, lowering her head. “When the others wanted her dead, and I stopped them… I wasn’t being noble. I wasn’t _doing_ the right thing. I was being selfish. I was being manipulative, and I was being just as evil as she was, because I wanted to kill her myself. That night. Alone. Without you or anyone knowing.” She raised her head, met her husband’s eyes, held his gaze. “I’m just as guilty as you on that.”

The bridge creaked and groaned as it rumbled slowly closer as Regina turned to them glowering. “Is there anyone here who has a secret that _doesn’t_ involve killing me in my sleep?” she demanded hotly, to which Hook meekly raised his hand. She sent him a withering glare.

Swan’s words were spoken already with regret and remorse and shame, her fear of love, her actual, fleeting wish that Neil were dead to avoid the pains of fragile hearts. The words bounced around the cavern as they had for all of them, and he saw his son lower his head in his cage for a few moments; but then the man seemed to come at peace with the new knowledge, for he leaned his forehead against the bars of his small prison and whispered, “It’s okay,” across the abyss. The words floated over, and Emma smiled tightly, nodding through the misty haze in her eyes.

Regina’s he did not see coming. He had thought maybe the murder of her own father – which he’d known about since the moment it happened – would’ve come to light this day; but instead, the sorceress’ confession stunned even him into shock.

“When Henry started reading all those stories that _you_ …” She looked pointedly at Mary Margaret. “…gave him... that book that would unravel everything that I had worked for… I feared. I didn’t fear him finding out the truth, but that he would do something about it. When he started asking questions, I was so… so torn up, so _selfish_ … that I nearly gave him up that day.” She swallowed, grit her teeth, kept a façade of perfect composure even when Gold could see all the guilt and shame burning within. “I almost drove him to Boston and _left_ him there, all because I was worried he was becoming a bit too interested in _fairy tales_.”

He could sense Emma’s disapproval, the Charmings’ heavy frowns, Hook’s minor confusion. He himself wasn’t sure what to feel, so he didn’t do anything. He just stared as that horrid bridge extended more and then stopped short up to the point where they couldn’t jump. It taunted him, dared him to try jumping so that the darkness below could devour him when he fell. He considered magic; but no. Hook had warned them that cheating would do more damage than good in this deadly game that Pan had devised.

That boy had always loved games. Hook called him a manipulative, sadistic, bloody demon… but he wasn’t. Gold knew that much. Pan was a boy that wanted to play, but simply didn’t know how.

Alright, so there was perhaps a bit of bloodlust in those sharp emerald eyes; but who was _he_ to judge?

Everything that was happening here was his own fault anyway.

They were all looking at him expectedly, waiting. Neil too, waiting for him to do the right thing, to open up about his wicked past and reveal his darkest secret. He couldn’t let his son down; not again. He had to redeem himself. Save Henry, save Neil… probably face Pan. The liquid metal that was dread pooled in his gut once more. The secrets would come out soon enough on this damn island anyway. Didn’t make it any easier, yet nothing in his life had _ever_ been easy. Not once.

“Well, Rumple, don’t keep us in suspense,” Regina called, crossing her arms and frowning impatiently. “Just get it over with.”

He glared at her, but sighed through his teeth before forcing out the words out. “I… I ran away when drafted for the Ogre Wars. I hid, like a coward, and while the skies were painted with men’s blood, good men’s blood, I kept on running.” He lowered his head, kept it down, perfect example of compunction and ignominy.

Only… the bridge didn’t extend. It didn’t move one signal inch, and while everyone stared, Hook was the one to speak up. “There’s more to it than that, isn’t there, mate?” he ventured, and he almost growled at him, though his hate ran towards the Caves and not the pirate. Why must they be the _darkest_ secrets? Damn this entire place.

He caught a glance of Baelfire, watching and still waiting. _For Bae, do it for Bae_ , the encouraging whispers of his mind, the ones that sounded like Belle, urged. _Or are you going to leave him, abandon him, again?_

 _No. Never again_. He looked around, searching. Pan had ears everywhere on the island, and he would bet that one of his Lost Boys were lurking, waiting and listening. _Do it. Do it now, get it over with. If they want to look at you in disgust afterwards, than fine. Just do it. For Bae_. _Do it now!_ his mind growled.

“I sold him to do it.”

The words were past his lips before he could think any more, echoing, reverberating. The gazes on him intensified, he could feel it, and he looked up, ready to accept their mortal judgement. It wasn’t as if they looked upon him as a king anyways, and he’d lived with this fact for far too long alone. “I did,” he said firmly, hands slightly clenching at his sides as he looked at them all with a steady, if not dark, haunted eyes. “I sold my own brother to a monster, a _demon_ , so that I could escape fighting in a war for the protection of innocents.”

The bridge started moving again as everyone’s eyes either widened or narrowed, and as he continued, “I sold my brother, and he’s…”

He needed to tell them, to explain why all this was happening; but before he could, there was _fire_ hitting him in the back, burning, scorching, and they all cried out as he was thrown across into one of the rock walls, the wind knocked out of him. A wave of red wind swept into the Caves and caught the others within its cold grasp, paralyzing them in some spell.

Gold opened his eyes to see the young man glaring at him from where he hovered in the air nearby, those emerald eyes accusing, green tattered clothes whipping in the mystic wind he’d summoned to render his enemies defenseless. “Don’t go rambling, _Rumple_ ,” Peter Pan spat heatedly, eyes darkening. “It’s time for _my_ secret…”

“…I’ve _never_ forgiven you for that.”

He was flying through the air again, hurled by the boy’s magic onto the stone platform Neil’s cage had been on. Only, it wasn’t there anymore. It was at Emma Swan’s feet, on the other side of the abyss. Where Pan was standing now, glowering at him. The teen turned briefly to Swan, sneering. “Let’s make a trade, Swan,” he offered without really offering any kind of deal at all. It was an order. “You can have Baelfire back.” He turned back to glare hatefully at Rumple. “I want _him_.”

Suddenly, before he could rise from his knees, Pan was beside him, and the Caves began to shake, began to _collapse_ it seemed. Panicking, he scrambled to his feet just as several boulders fell from the ceiling, fell right in front of Swan and the Charmings and Hook and his _son_. “No!” He took a step forward, before he realized the rocks weren’t crushing them. They were merely separating them. From him. From him and Pan.

Peter Pan, who was now circling him with dark, hurt, angry eyes, hands slightly glowing with remaining magic as he faced him down. “I’m not going to kill them, Rumple,” he stated. “Just like wasn’t going to kill Henry. I’m not _you_ , I wouldn’t _slaughter_ that boy like you thought I would.”

 _Get a hold of yourself. Prepare for the worst_. He started summoning his own magic and he began turning, never leaving his back to the younger man. “I didn’t think you would kill him,” he corrected. “But you would’ve kept him. Like you tried to keep Bae.” He could still remember that night.

_“Why are you doing this?!”_

_“Because it’s easier to be cold stone, feeling nothing at all, than to remember what you did to me.”_

Pan shook his head. “You were abandoning him, he _wanted_ to come with me…”

“I would never abandon him willingly!”

The boy’s gaze hardened. “Oh, you mean, you would never leave him like you left me?” When he didn’t receive an answer, he scoffed. “Tell me, Rumple, what did Baelfire have that I didn’t? You raised him – I grew _up_ with you! I admired you, trusted you, and when you were old enough to be drafted, an _adult_ , you sold me.” His voice dropped lower, more threatening, more grieving. “You sold me to a demon that has kept me as his slave on this island for _decades_.”

He hadn’t know that. He’d thought Pan had escaped the monster. He hadn’t known… “This isn’t ‘your’ game, is it?” he breathed, faltering slightly as he had when his father had left him and family, when his wife had died, when his son had left him. When he’d lost his brother.

Pan’s glare was so accusing and bitter. Dead almost. “No. It’s not. I do whatever he tells me to. And Rumple? He wants this as well.”

He almost didn’t see the second fireball coming at him, and leapt out of the way just in time. _Don’t fight him_ , Belle’s voice pleaded. _You’ll make it worse, you’ll confirm his belief that you don’t care. Don’t fight him_.

“What? No more magic from the _Dark One_ ,” Pan taunted angrily, one palm afire while the other pointed at him. That hand suddenly opened up, and a small white and blue object flew out of Gold’s jacket and into those awaiting fingers. A small doll, made of cloth and straw and sticks. Pan looked at it, then looked back up to glare at him. “Remember this? Remember how _proud_ I was when I made it for you, even though it was nothing, _is_ nothing, but trash glued together?” The doll was cast away. “I still kept the pan pipe you gave me though. But all this doesn’t matter. You threw that doll away when you ran, just as you did with _me_. Well, it’s time to end what you began, Rumple. Get ready for the last round!”

And suddenly, it was like a cloak was lifted from his eyes, and he could see Pan, see him for _real_. See the scars marring the boy’s arms, the hollow hopelessness in his eyes. See what the demon he’d sold him to had done to him. And saw what would happen once more if Pan should disobey his will.

“You _will_ fight me, Rumple!” Pan shouted. A shadow grew on the wall, the form of a malicious beast, aflame and ominous. “You did this when you traded me for your _cowardice_. Now you’re gonna end it!”

No, no, no. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to kill him, not him, not like this, no, no, no, no, _no_. But his own self-preservation instincts were kicking in, and magic flew to his hands as he summoned two large, powerful, electric orbs to his hands. Even as it happened, he stood there horrified at himself, before looking at the boy before him, the one standing under the demon’s shadow, entrapped there. And he was seeing his first, and greatest, mistake all over again. The price of his failure. “Peter…”

“There’s no escape,” Peter said; and he could’ve sworn the boy sounded sad. But then the anger returned, the fire lit up in those thin, pale hands, and Pan _smiled_. “Well, dear brother?

Let’s play.”


End file.
